Tats Too

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Tats Too Page 21

by Layce Gardner


  “Is she ever,” Lulu half-moans. “She does drag as a man. She’s my lover for over two years now. You will swoon when you lay eyes on her. She’s big and butch and sexy as hell in her leather chaps riding around on her big ol’ motorcycle.”

  Aha! At last something I can talk about. “What kind of bike does she have?”

  “A red one. With little flecks of silver dusted in the paint.” Lulu smiles.

  I should’ve known.

  Vivian smiles all mom-like at my disappointed face. “Lee’s into motorcycles.”

  I decide to try again. Maybe I can figure out what kind of bike Rachel has if I ask the right questions. “Is it a cruiser or a crotch rocket?”

  Lulu smiles wickedly. “The motorcycle is a cruiser, but she has a crotch rocket, too. And I looove to ride it even more.”

  Vivian and Lulu laugh their collective asses off and I smile along.

  Vivian lets out a deep sigh. “Lee and I used to ride all the time, but we don’t much anymore.”

  “Ride what, the motorcycle or the crotch rocket?”

  Vivian laughs. “Both. Georgia’s put a damper on our sex life some. Hard to do it with a baby in bed between you.”

  “Baby?” Lulu gasps.

  Vivian gasps, too. “Oh my God! You don’t know! We have a baby. Georgia. She’s adorable. Has curly red hair and cute little bow lips.”

  “How old?” Lulu asks.

  “Six months,” I answer.

  “And already starting to talk . She can say tee-tee just as plain as day.” Vivian puffs out her own tee-tees and says proudly, “Lee gave birth and I’m the father.”

  Lulu’s red fingernails flutter like a little injured bird’s wings to her mouth. Tears spring to her eyes and she utters, “Oh my God. I’m an aunt!”

  Vivian continues, “I wish we had some pictures, but we left everything, I mean, everything in the house and it all burned up.”

  Not quite everything. I know one thing she brought along.

  “Your house burned up?”

  “We did it on purpose.”

  “On purpose? Where’s the baby?” Lulu asks, alarmed.

  “We don’t know.”

  Just so she won’t think we’re horrible parents, I add, “We know she’s with my mother and father. She’s safe. We just don’t know where they all are. Exactly. At this precise moment in time.”

  Lulu sits straight up and says seriously, “I’m confused. Start at the beginning. Tell me everything.”

  “But first,” I say, pulling myself out of the sofa, “do you have a phone I can use?” I say to Vivian, “I’ll call Mikey, see if she’s interested in earning some quick cash.” I look back to Lulu, adding, “And I could use a shower, too, if that’s all right.”

  Lulu aims her fingernail down a hallway. “Sure, honey. There’s a phone on the bar in the kitchen and the bathroom’s across the hall. Just make yourself at home.”

  “Thanks.” I smile and head in the direction she pointed. I’m about halfway down the hall when I hear Lulu murmur, “Nice tush. I wouldn’t mind some of that sugar in my bowl.”

  I hear Vivian scold, “Stop that. Don’t flirt with my lesbian.”

  They both laugh.

  I hurry my tush to the kitchen and find, like the rest of the condo, it’s high-end and spotless. I wonder if Lulu ever even uses it? I spot the cordless phone sitting on top of the real granite counter and dial information for Albuquerque. A couple of minutes later, the phone is ringing, I have it tucked between my chin and shoulder and I’m pulling a bottle of beer out of the ice- box. I notice that Lulu has Miracle Whip in her fridge.

  The ringing stops and a voice that sounds like Jerri answers. I open the bottle on a drawer handle and say, “Jerri, this is Lee. I don’t know if you remember me. Tats? I was there when—Yeah. Did you give Mikey the package I mailed? Do you happen to have a phone number for her? She’s in Vegas? Does she have a cell? Yeah, I’ll wait…”

  I grab the notepad and pen on the bar and take a long swig of beer. I write as quick as she calls out the numbers.

  “Okay, got it. Thanks, Jerri.”

  “Next call, Mikey,” I say out loud to myself, then drain the bottle.

  I dial the number Jerri gave me, but it goes straight to voice mail. Maybe she’s on her bike. I leave a message… “Mikey, this is Tats. Tits and I are in Vegas. Listen, I have a deal for you. I need your help with something. Something that involves a really big payday for you. One hundred G’s big. We’re staying in the penthouse right across from Pussy Galore. Bring the crew with you.”

  I hang up, toss the empty bottle into the empty trash can and head back to the living room. I walk in on the middle of Vivian saying, “I’m still mad at you, you know. You stole all my cute sweaters and stretched out the shoulders.”

  Lulu shrugs, “Well, I’m still mad at you for being born with a vagina. It’s a helluva lot easier to buy new sweaters than it is a new vagina.”

  Vivian laughs and stands, extending a hand to Lulu. “I’m here to extract revenge. Show me the way to your closet.”

  Lulu allows Vivian to lift her to her feet as she says, “Oh, honey. You are going to cream your panties when you see my wardrobe.”

  “I already did that. Several times.” Lulu arches one eyebrow at her and Vivian shrugs, “It was a really long drive here.”

  Lulu sees me in the hallway and looks me up and down, weighing me with her eyes. “Hmm,” she says, “I can’t wait to hear all about it. C’mon, let’s go compare girlie parts.”

  They walk off the other way, hand in hand, like…well, like two sisters.

  I head to the shower to scrub all the sand and stink off.

  ***

  I’m all soaped up and letting the three showerheads work their massage magic when the bathroom door opens. I see Vivian through the bubble door and say, “If you’re going to pee, don’t you dare flush!”

  “Just thought you’d like some clean clothes, doll face,” a voice says. “They’re Rachel’s and should fit you just fine.”

  Is that Lulu? She and Vivian even sound a lot alike. I slide open the door a crack and peek out.

  She’s gone. But lying on the toilet seat are leather pants, a leather shirt and some way cool leather motorcycle boots with a pair of thick socks.

  At least Rachel has impeccable taste. Even if she doesn’t have underwear.

  ***

  The only thing I don’t like about leather is that it squeaks when you walk. I’ll never be able to sneak up on anybody wearing all this. I find Vivian still in her red flannel perched on the sofa, looking at me smugly.

  “Well, don’t you look perfectly edible,” she says.

  “You’d have to skin me first,” I joke. “I’m wearing more leather than a cow.” I sit down close to her.

  “You smell better,” she says.

  “I feel better, too. I had sand in places I didn’t even know there were places.” She laughs and I add, “There’s all kinds of smelly-goodums in that bathroom. Hey, when you take a shower, take Mr. Happy in there with you. See if you can wash all the desert off him.”

  “Mr. Happy?” she giggles.

  “You remember him, don’t you?” I ask, lightly teasing my fingertips over her nipples. “Mr. Happy remembers you.”

  Her nipples harden under my touch. I glance around the room to double-check that we’re alone, and say, “Looks like Sonny and Cher are happy to see me.”

  She smiles crookedly. “Sonny and Cher?”

  “Maybe we should rename them. I’m thinking the Pointer Sisters is more appropriate. Because they’re sisters and they’re so excited they just can’t hide it.”

  She laughs and adds, “Weren’t there three Pointer Sisters?”

  “I bet I know where the third one is hiding,” I say low, massaging her thigh and inching my hand slowly up. “I’ll find her. I’m a pussy-whisperer, you know.”

  She laughs into my ear and growls, seductively, “You’re going to get yourself into a lot
of trouble if your soon-to-be-wife catches you with your hand on my pussy.”

  Huh? What’s she talking about? I look close at at her face and…“Fuck me!” I say, jumping to my feet. “I thought you were Vivian!”

  I shake my hand around in the air, but it doesn’t work. It still tingles from the ghost of Lulu’s you-know-what.

  Lulu laughs her ass off and then Vivian is in the room laughing. She’s wearing some fancy clothes of Lulu’s.

  Lulu says, “She is just the sweetest soft-butch thing, wherever did you find her?”

  Okay, now, that kind of pisses me off. I’m standing here all in leather and she calls me “soft butch”?

  Vivian slashes her hand across her throat at Lulu. “Ssshhh…she thinks she’s butch.”

  “Not with that delicious ass, she’s not,” Lulu says.

  “I am so butch,” I demand. I stop just short of stomping one boot on the floor because that might make me look a little less butch.

  Lulu overplays her agreement, “I’m sure you are, honey.” She laughs. “But if I know my sister, she’s always on top.”

  “You can be butch from the bottom,” I sulk.

  Vivian settles herself on the arm of the sofa. “That’s not what Mr. Happy told me last night. Mr. Happy says you have a very femme ass and he likes it.”

  “My ass has a love-hate relationship with Mr. Happy.” I smile a little.

  Vivian twirls one finger in the air, saying, “Honey, turn around so Lu can get a good look at your ass.”

  I plop down hard on the couch and mumble, “I’d rather not, thank you.”

  “Oh, and she’s so cute when she’s embarrassed,” Lulu says like I’m a puppy in a pet shop window.

  “You guys, leave my ass alone and go tag-team somebody else.”

  They laugh, obviously delighted with their new game of Torment-the-Outsider.

  “And you changed clothes on me. That’s so Parent Trap.”

  Lulu rises from the sofa and slings Vivian’s red purse over her shoulder. “Time to be Vivian.”

  “Wait a minute,” Vivian says, taking the purse. She digs around inside, extracts Mr. Happy and tosses him to me, ordering, “Go stick him in the dishwasher.”

  “Oooh, grape,” Lulu says, “good color choice.”

  I try to hide my blush by hiding Mr. Happy behind my back.

  Vivian hands the purse back to Lulu, explaining their idea-concoction to me, “Lu is going to go collect the money I won on the jackpot. She’ll use her own social and ID. So the Mafia and FBI will think it’s her who won, not me.”

  “Get it in cash,” I add, hopefully.

  “Show them your tits if you have to,” Vivian coaxes.

  “Or even if I don’t have to,” Lulu quips.

  Vivian pulls her sister into a big bear hug. “If even Lee couldn’t tell the difference between us, the ol’ switcheroo should work.”

  Lulu feather-kisses Vivian on the cheek. “With your clothes on, I even smell like your pussy.”

  They laugh and Lulu opens the front door.

  Vivian warns, “Don’t you dare come back without the cash. Do whatever you have to do.”

  “Honey, I have a vagina and I’m not afraid to use it,” Lulu says, then punctuates it with a wink before she disappears out the door.

  “Okay,” Vivian turns to face me. “Shower time for moi.”

  I grab Vivian in my arms and lay a big ol’ kiss on her lips.

  I’ve heard of the power of subliminal advertising. Supposedly movies have quick images of popcorn and pickles spliced in between the film frames and suddenly for no apparent reason at all you find yourself craving popcorn and pickles so you have to run to the concession stand and buy them. I wonder if that shit really works. Like if I were to whisper spliced-in subliminal words while I talked to Viv about everyday stuff, would it work? What the hell, I decide to give it a shot.

  I pull back from the kiss and say nonchalantly, “I was thinking the other day tits about tits how much I loved you and tits wanted you to know this so I bought you a chocolate cake tits and was tits bringing it home lemme touch your tits but I tripped on the sidewalk gimme tits and I’m sorry but tits I ruined your surprise.”

  I draw in a deep breath and study her face to see if it worked.

  Vivian crinkles her nose, puts one fingertip on her chin and says, “Why do I have the strangest urge to let you touch my tits. Hmmm… Oh, well…”

  She pulls me closer and whispers into my ear-ogenous zone, “Did I tell you about that old man who ass wheels his ass wheelchair in front of our house ass all the time lemme touch your ass and collects pop cans? Ass he’s saving ass up to buy a new ass electric wheelchair.”

  “I don’t know why, but I reallyreallyreally want you to touch my ass.”

  Her hands float down to my ass, grab it and pull me closer. She whispers, “Let’s go give Mr. Happy a shower.”

  ***

  The good thing about spending twelve years in prison (possibly the only good thing) is that I got plenty of practice having sex in the shower. In fact, I’m more comfortable in a shower than I am in a bed.

  I lather up every inch of Vivian’s body, and I enjoy that so much that I do it all over again. Her tits are a little bigger. Maybe she’s a little fuller in the belly, too. I still don’t know how she got pregnant, and maybe she doesn’t either. I just know that however it came about, I don’t really want to know. I’m really starting to like the idea of another baby. A little brother or sister for Georgia.

  I just know that I love Vivian, no matter how she got this way and maybe that’s all that counts anyway.

  “Your body is a temple,” I say in awe, squeezing the loofah over her tits and watching the soapy water run its course.

  “My body is an amusement park,” she giggles.

  I look into her eyes and that’s when an epiphany swoops down and smashes me upside the head. I’ve always loved her since the moment I met her, but something else happens when I look in her eyes this time. It’s a flash of understanding, no, of knowing that I’m a small part of something much bigger than myself, bigger than just Vivian, too. The only other time I ever felt this way was when my grandma took me on a trip to the Ozarks and I stood at the foot of a mountain and looked up at its gi-normity. It was so big I had to stretch my neck way back just to see the top of it. So much bigger than me. Yet, I felt like I was a part of it. I felt connected. Connected from the calloused bottoms of my bare feet all the way to the tippy-top of that mountain.

  “What?” Vivian asks full of concern, lightly touching my cheek.

  “I don’t know how to explain…” I stutter.

  “Explain what?”

  “I just love you so much.”

  Her face softens and she whispers, “I love you, too, you big goof.”

  “I feel whole,” I whisper, then emphasize, “I love you with all my heart and both my hands.”

  We make love then and not with Mr. Happy either, because three’s a crowd right now, and I want it to be just me and her. And when we come, it’s together, at the same time, which happens all the time in the movies, but rarely in real life.

  ***

  “Did you get what I asked you to?”

  “Yes, baby sister, it’s in a drawer in the bathroom.”

  “Let’s divide this up,” Vivian says.

  Vivian’s and Lulu’s whispers wake me up. I guess after the shower sextivities I fell asleep on the couch like a corpse—on my back with my arms crossed over my chest. I open one eye and peek at them. They’re sitting Indian-style, facing each other, on the sofa across from me, with a huge pile of cash between them.

  Lulu says, “I don’t want any of it. I have enough money.”

  “Well, you’re going to take half of it and that’s that. Lee would totally agree with me. Plus, you’re going to have to pay the taxes out of your half.”

  Lulu turns her head my way, and I quickly shut my eye, playing possum.

  “I’m so happy for you,
Viv. I’m so happy that you found somebody to love. It sounds corny as hell, but at my age, and you’re the only one who knows my true age, you learn to recognize what’s real. And what’s not. Love is real. Everything else is just illusion.”

  “I certainly didn’t expect to fall in love with a woman. I just did.”

  “The woman part isn’t what’s important.”

  Vivian laughs low. “You got that right. You think she feels the same for me?”

  “Don’t you?”

  Vivian sighs, “I do. I know that, but still I worry sometimes. Lee’s always had a string of women. I worry that I’m just the latest flavor.”

  “She looks pretty gone on you if you ask me.”

  “I know I’m probably being stupid…” Vivian hesitates, then continues, “But, I’ve never been this happy with anyone. And that scares the shit out of me. If she left me, if she took Georgia and left me, I don’t know what I’d do. Well, yes I do, I’d fucking kill the other bitch is what I’d do.”

  “Has she ever done anything to make you think she’d cheat?”

  “No. Not really. I just—”

  Lulu cuts her off, “Honey, if somebody loves you, you need to accept it.”

  “What d’ya mean?”

  “Let her love you. Love is not about fear. Or jealousy. Or anything else. If somebody trusts you with their love, the least you can do is accept it and cherish it. It’s a rare gift she’s given you.”

  Silence for a long time.

  “You and Rachel are good?”

  “I make damn sure it stays that way,” Lulu says with an undercurrent of ferocity.

  “How?”

  Lulu chuckles, “I never let her leave the house with a loaded gun for one thing.”

  Vivian laughs.

  “That way even if she did want another woman, she’s too tired to do anything about it. I let her look, of course. That’s good for any relationship,” Lulu says with authority.

  “You think?”

  “I call them her fluffers. She can look and get fluffed, I don’t care, as long as she brings it on home. You have to keep the sex going strong, darling. Don’t let it slip. Good sex is like fluffy bangs, it hides a multitude of sins.”

 

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